


It Seems the Game has Changed

by SidheLives



Series: Fen'Harem Fluffcember 2020 [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Choking, Competition, F/M, Fluffcember, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Religious Undertones, Sexual Tension, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:33:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28112448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SidheLives/pseuds/SidheLives
Summary: "Vhenan, I am not in the mood for such games." He rolled his shoulders to dislodge the snow which had caught at the back of his neck."Are you that afraid to lose?" She shot back, tossing the snowball playfully between her hands.The hit to his pride stung. She knew it would. Solas grimaced. "I would not lose.""Then prove it. I know you have the stamina." She raised an eyebrow. Behind her back the others exchanged indecent looks at her comment.Written for Fen'Harem's Fluffcember 2020Prompt: Snowball Fight
Relationships: Solas/Female Trevelyan (Dragon Age), Solas/Trevelyan (Dragon Age)
Series: Fen'Harem Fluffcember 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035954
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26
Collections: Fen'Harem's Fluffcember 2020





	1. Chapter 1

"You not joining in, Chuckles?"

Solas looked up from his book to Varric who leaned on the pavilion support a few feet away. An icy breeze carried the echoes of shouts and laughter from outside where a number of the Inquisition's members, spurred on by the Inquisitor herself, had begun a raucous snowball fight.

"I'm afraid I lack the appropriate footwear for such activities," Solas responded with a single raised eyebrow, promoting a hearty guffaw from the dwarf. "I see you also remain warm and dry despite the revelries."

Varric gave a lazy shrug. "Bianca isn't equipped for snowballs. Without her, I'm just a target." He gestured with his head to the field before them where the combatants plied their precipitation based warfare. "Got any wagers? They seem to be aiming for a last man standing type situation."

Closing his book, Solas crossed one knee over the other and looked out over the combatants. He was intrigued by the question, and by the possible insight the unexpectedly keen dwarf might share. "Blackwall will be the first to fold." He stated unquestionably. The man was already showing signs of wear: ruddy, puffed out cheeks and a slowing gait which the others seemed more than willing to take advantage of.

"No contest there. I can't understand how they convinced him to join in in the first place." Solas raised a single disbelieving eyebrow at him and Varric chuckled. "Alright, I suppose I know how  _ she _ convinced him."

Blackwall maintained a passing countenance of respect and disinterest for the Inquisitor, but it was clear to those with eyes how he doted on her and let his eyes linger places they should not. "Few men, I think, could resist such an invitation." Solas imagined the exchange: Des pulling back her shoulders to better present her assets, her hips cocked to the side, one hand perched provocatively on her slim waist as the other lay relaxed at her side. Perhaps she would twirl a single golden curl between two fingers as she maintained unflinching eye contact with him, the steel in her emerald eyes daring his own to slide down her form. Desdemona Trevelyan did have eyes, and she was dastardly in her determination to use any and all avenues available to her in order to get what she wanted.

"Makes me wonder how you avoided being roped into the game," Varric observed with a wry smile.

_ And it begins _ .

It had only been a matter of time. Solas had anticipated this, he had known even the first time he lay in her bed, her supple body curled around his, that there was no avoiding it: even with the threat of Corypheus and the Breach people still found time for gossip. Des had been unexpectedly understated regarding their coupling, no forced shows of public affection or loudly delivered offhand comments. Even when they made love in camp (another eventuality, which like the woman herself, he had plaintively resisted) she was muted, biting her own lips or his shoulders to muffle her usually resonant vocalizations. 

Attention drawn to them, the marks from her teeth hidden beneath Solas's warm clothing ached and a bemused smile turned his lips. "I suppose that is because such invitations no longer hold sway with me."

Caught off guard, Varric bellowed with full throated laughter. "That would do it," he agreed, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.

Solas stretched, surreptitiously preening at his ability to surprise the astute Varric, and pushed to his feet, turning away from the revelers and their game. "Is that mulled wine you placed by the fire warm yet?"

"Probably," Varric responded with a glance to the jug where it sat. "Is the cold finally getting to the man who refuses to wear shoes?"

Solas opened his mouth to offer a pithy retort just as something freezing cold smashed into the back of his neck and shoulders, halting his movement. Behind him he could hear gasps and giggles and before him Varric stifled his own laughter.

"I believe that shot may have flown wide, Inquisitor!" There was no question in Solas's mind as to who had thrown the offending projectile, which had already begun to melt, sending rivulets of cold water down his back.

"No, I don't think it did!" Des's bemused reply was chased by more giggles from Sera and what could only be described as a bark of laughter from Dorian.

Slowly, Solas turned. Des had another snowball ready in her hand and a challenge in her eyes. The other players (Sera, Dorian, Bull, and Blackwall) were watching intently, the game forgotten in the moment of anticipation. She ran her wicked tongue over her teeth and the marks on his shoulders twinged again.

"Vhenan, I am not in the mood for such games." He rolled his shoulders to dislodge the snow which had caught at the back of his neck.

"Are you that afraid to lose?" She shot back, tossing the snowball playfully between her hands.

The hit to his pride stung. She knew it would. Solas grimaced. "I would not lose."

"Then prove it. I know you have the stamina." She raised an eyebrow. Behind her back the others exchanged indecent looks at her comment.

Solas felt his jaw tighten with irritation. Sleeping together had done nothing to soften her abrasive manner. A small piece of him was impressed with her ability to get under his skin and elicit the exact level of competitive ire needed to coerce him into her game. There was a sharp mind behind her captivating physique, one which Solas was loath to admit he was becoming enamored with.

"Excuse me, Varric," Solas tossed back over his shoulder, his eyes still locked with Des. "I have been called away on urgent business. Do please save me some wine."

Des saw him tense to move and swung overhand, hurling the snowball in her hand with vicious force, but Solas was quicker, ducking to scoop up his own projectile. He felt the chill as it passed overhead and Varric's dismayed cry as he became it's target, but he was moving, lobbing the freshly formed orb of snow at Des. She shrieked and lunged out of it's path, and just like that, the game was back on.

The players sprang to life, running for cover or ducking for snow. Sera hooted, jumping up and down in excitement before a shower of ice exploded against her back and Bull roared in laughter as she let out a string of obscenities that would have made Mother Giselle faint. 

Everyone was moving, ducking and dodging through the field: laughter and shouts punctuated by howls of dismay. Solas kept his eyes keen for the golden flash of Des's hair as he nimbly avoided attacks intended for him. He spotted her, chasing after a fleeing Dorian with a snowball in each hand, and threw. The snowball caught her shoulder and the force of it spun her slightly, turning her towards the direction of the attack, and she let out a low laugh before tossing one of her balls in his direction. The force with which she threw it should not have been enough to cross the distance to him and yet it soared through the air narrowly missing his face as he ducked. As it passed, Solas caught the unmistakable tang of the Fade in the air around it and he grinned.

_ Oh, Vhenan. _ He thought wickedly, planting a shot directly into the back of Blackwall's skull.  _ Is that how you wish to play? _

"Bullocks to this " Blackwall shouted, shaking snow from his hair and shoulders as he headed towards the tents. "It's too fucking cold. Freeze your arses off without me."

"We can do that?" Dorian glared at Des.

" _ You _ can't," she responded, punctuating her comment with a snowball lobbed directly into his face, causing him to let out a girlish shriek and leaving ice crystals clinging to his moustache.

Des laughed, head thrown back and hands on her hips, oblivious to the dinner plate sized snowball which, with a breath of magic, Solas launched, until it struck her directly between the shoulders, knocking her onto her knees. All eyes snapped to him and Sera cackled.

"Get the baldy!" She shouted, scooping up snow as she ran at him. Des popped back up off the ground, eyes crackling like miniature Fade Rifts as she glared at him, a sinister smile stating more clearly than words could that this meant war.

Bull was quick to follow Sera's lead, throwing snowballs as big as Solas's head overhand in his direction which were easy enough to avoid. What made it more difficult was Sera's rapid fire approach as she zig-zagged across the field closer and closer. Solas dashed under her attacks as he rushed to meet her, dropping to a slide just before they met, his foot cascading snow under her steps so she stumbled forward to faceplant into the soft white precipitation. Solas however, didn't stop moving, springing past her prone form and taking expert aim at Des's disgustingly snide face.

It should have hit home, and it would have, if a sheet of ice had not suddenly sprang into existence in front of her. His shot hit the wall and it shattered, sprinkling her hair and clothing with tiny shards of ice.

"Isn't that cheating?" Bull asked inquisitively.

"It seems the game has changed," Solas replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Seems it has," Des agreed.

For a handful of moments, no one moved. The air was silent, even the sounds of the nearby camp muted by the icy powder which insulated it. Then Solas and Des simultaneously sprang to action. He knew she would attack first so he dodged left, narrowly avoiding a wave of snow intended to cascade over him, and launched two fist sized bolts of snow which struck Des's chest. Behind him Sera shrieked as she was again knocked off her feet by snow, but Solas was far more concerned with Des's growl of frustration and several quick moving shots coming at his face. He rolled under them, coming up on one knee and shot a spray of snow up into her face, hoping to blind her, but she was gone, Fade stepping out of danger.

"That's it for me." Bull announced from behind Solas. "You two enjoy your freaky magic stuff."

Solas didn't bother to respond, his attention wholly focused on the competitive fire in Des's eyes. She seemed to be waiting for his next move, knees bent slightly and hands held up ready to cast. He threw and she conjured a stalagmite of ice which disintegrated to powder as it was struck. This was followed by another and another, Solas forgoing manually packing snowballs, instead conjuring them directly from the chilly air. Each one was halted by a pillar of ice, Des's aim impeccable even as they strafed in a wide circle around each other.

"It's unlike you to be so defensive, Vhenan." Solas spoke normally, allowing Mana in his breath to carry the words to her ears.

"I think most people would call me extremely defensive." There was a chuckle in her voice as it reached him and he laughed, feigning a dash left while sending a flurry of volleys from his right. Three snowballs hit their mark, colliding into her side with a satisfying  _ pfft pfft pfft _ .

"I've always considered you more offensive, myself."

Des summoned another wave of snow, massive enough to completely block her from view. The crest rushed at Solas and his eyebrows raised slightly at the power that would have been needed to create such a thing. He flicked his hand towards it, a rush of wind following his gesture, parting like a stone in a stream, snow falling harmlessly to either side of him, revealing an empty field. Solas narrowed his eyes, searching out Des's form, realizing a split second too late that she was moving towards him impossibly fast, made nearly invisible by the Fade essence swirling around her. He grunted as she slammed into his chest, tackling him into the snow.

Hands on his shoulders she manically grinned down at him. "I win."

"You cheated." Solas was grateful that the ground below him was cushioned by snow. The fall had knocked the wind from his lungs and dazzled his vision, he could only imagine how much worse it would have been without the extra padding.

"No one ever said tackling was against the rules," she cooed, settling her hips very distractingly against his.

"I mean the subtle use of magic in an attempt to gain an upper hand against me." Solas clarified, suppressing a shiver which he almost convinced himself was from the cold and not her proximity.

Des blinked at him, then released a peal of giggles. "Oh, I didn't do that for you."

Realization made Solas's lips fall open. "You were cheating the whole time?"

She leaned her face in close to his, her sweet breath tickling the skin of his face. "I can't stand losing."

"How did Dorian not notice?" Bull and Sera made sense, but Dorian was a mage, he should have recognized the feel of her casting.

"It's remarkable what Dorian Pavus won't notice when you're pouring snow down the back of his collar." Des smiled proudly.

The expression drew forth a similar one on Solas's features. He brushed his nose against hers in a uncharacteristically gentle touch, and she surprised him by nuzzling into the caress in a way that did not seem borne from carnal desire, but genuine affection.

"You are contemptible." Instead of chastising the words sounded complimentary as they rolled from his mouth. 

"What are you going to do about it, hmm? Reveal my deception?  _ Punish _ me?" She teased, shifting her hips just so.

It took no effort to roll Des onto her back, snatching her wrists from his shoulders to press into the snow on either side of her head. She didn't seem surprised or disturbed by her change in fortune, tongue running over her bottom lip. 

"Some kind of reprisal is called for, certainly. It would be dangerous indeed to allow you to think such behavior is permissible."

"What disciplinary action would be called for in such a case?" Her blush lips curled into a tantalizing smirk and the heat in her eyes ignited something low in Solas's body. He pressed his mouth to those insolent lips, depressing her head deeper into the snow, tongue thrusting into her mouth with a force that foreshadowed exactly the type of punishment he had in mind. Never to be outdone, Des returned his ferocity, teeth catching his bottom lip hard enough to make him hiss.

"You want to just do it in the snow then?" She asked, a breathless chuckle which only fueled the flame of Solas's desire. "I'm sure Bull would enjoy the show, I can't speak for the others however."

Solas chuckled despite himself. "I feel you would enjoy such a display far too much for it to still be considered punishment, Vhenan."

"Then I suggest you drag me somewhere more suitable for retribution before I continue my bad behavior."

Solas could think of no objections, nor did he wish too.


	2. Chapter 2

Solas did not speak to anyone as he held Des's wrist and dragged her through the Inquisition's camp. Varric tried to say something to him about mulled wine, but Solas had not even acknowledged his existence. He knew the way people would talk, he knew the things they would say about him, but in that moment what felt more important than avoiding the gossip-mongering was getting the Inquisitor alone.

Desdemona's tent was set apart from the others and tucked into the line of trees, both efforts to limit the spread of any sounds which might emanate from within the canvas structure. Solas felt his lips turning into a wicked smirk as he approached it. Both would prove inadequate if he had his way.

He pulled aside the tent flap and roughly swung Des inside, snapping it closed behind him with a sharp _thwick_. "Clothes off now."

"Since when do you tell me what to do?" Des responded defiantly, hands planted on her hips.

"You're being punished, remember?" He stalked toward her.

For a moment, Des seemed to contemplate being non-compliant, then began unbuttoning her warm jacket. "Whatever you say, _Master_."

She used the word facetiously, but the sound of it made the beast in Solas's stomach growl in approval. He circled her, watching with hot eyes as she slowly removed boots, socks, and layers of furs and leathers. She removed her chemise and reached for her brassiere, but he stopped just behind her and took hold of her wrist.

"This is the one I got you from Val Royeaux." He ran his finger down the edge of the snow-white lace strap.

"It is. I'm wearing the set," she confirmed with a wry smirk.

Fire flashed in Solas's eyes and he buried one hand in her hair, pulling her head backward and placing his lips next to her ear. "Show me."

Des chuckled low in her throat, the sound strained by the distension of her neck as he held her. She hooked her thumbs into her waistband and slowly, irritatingly slowly, pushed it down to reveal the white lace panties underneath.

"You never wear small clothes," Solas whispered accusingly.

"I decided to today," she breathed, releasing her trousers to slide to the floor. "Just in case."

He tightened his hand in her hair and she gasped. Desdemona did not deal in contingencies. "You calculating _dhar'ash_." He hissed. "You have more transgressions to be reprimanded for than I thought."

She purred, hands finding his hips behind her and pulling them into her ass. "I've been very naughty, Solas."

He kissed down her neck, pulling her head to the side for better access, his other hand cupping one of her lace-covered breasts and massaging the pliable flesh. His mouth reached the strap of her brassiere and he caught it with his teeth, pulling and releasing so it snapped hard against her skin. She gasped slightly, then moaned as his teeth found her skin.

"You will beg for forgiveness." He instructed, rolling his tongue over the fresh bite mark. "On your knees." He released her, pushing down on her head and she dramatically tumbled to her hands and knees. The movement was too perfect to have been uncontrolled, no cracking of knees or cries of alarm, and Solas felt a purr of appreciation from low in his body at Des's playacting.

Des tossed her blonde hair back to look up at him over one shoulder from her position on hands and knees, a visceral image Solas decided must be returned to before the liaison was concluded. There was a sparkle of rebellion in her eyes and her perfect ass arched upward in a way that told him she knew exactly what she was doing. On all fours she crawled around to his feet, hands climbing his legs with methodical precision: catching his ankles, the backs of his knees, his thighs just below his ass, and finally his hips. 

"Forgive me." Her voice was low, humming through her chest as her fingers worked into his waistband. She rubbed her face like a cat against his straining groin and Solas had to bite back a groan of pleasure. Her lips traced the outline of his cock through his leggings, eyes swung up to look at his face as she did, to see the struggle for control in his features. " _Please_ forgive me."

"Pretty words." Solas's voice came out a growl. "But words will not absolve you."

Des's lips curled into a sanguine grin and her fingers, already caught in his waistband, dragged down, her fingernails catching on the skin of his hips and thighs as she exposed him. The cold air hit his sensitive flesh and he bit back a hiss, then a moan as her hot mouth enveloped his cock.

There were few pleasures Solas enjoyed indulging in as much as Desdemona on her knees. She bowed to no one, not Kings and not Empresses, but for his cock she would prostrate herself. Her face was flushed from the cold, her lips bright red as they slid up and down his shaft, and her hands clawed into his hips as she took more and more of him into the furnace of her mouth. Solas shuddered, head tipping back, and he wound the fingers of one hand into the hair at the base of her skull. He pressed her forward, just enough that it would be slightly uncomfortable, and moaned as she swallowed around his length. Her teeth grazed the skin at the base of his cock and he hissed, hips bucking. Des pushed back against his hand, attempting to extract him from her throat, but he held her tight and looked down to find that the rebellious fire in her eyes had reignited.

"A true penitent accepts their penance without struggle, _Vhenan_. Do you truly seek atonement?" He was pleased with how controlled his voice came out despite everything.

Again, Des seemed to consider non-compliance, then she swallowed around him, manipulating her jaw in order to roll her tongue up and down his shaft without moving her head. Solas sighed in pleasure and his hips hitched again, making Des swallow again to avoid gagging as the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat.

Satisfied with her obedience, Solas released her head and Des pulled back enough to take a gasping breath, hand pressed to her throat. She looked up at his smug smirk, a wicked gleam in her eye, as she ran her tongue along her bottom lip as her expression became its mirror. Her fingers wrapped around the base of his cock and she took him once again into her mouth, tongue and lips teasing his flesh. Solas bit his lip and reached for her hair again, but her hand squeezed and he faltered, a mewl escaping his lungs. Her eyes burned as she worked, telling him without words that, for the moment, she was in charge.

"Forgive me," she said softly, hot breath caressing him. She ran her tongue languidly over the head of his cock and his spine clenched. "Give me my absolution."

Oh, how he wanted to. "Your imperfect contrition is an appealing spectacle, but I do not believe it." Solas took firm hold of her chin, dragging her to her feet. "You regret nothing."

Des cast her eyes down, mouth pinched, attempting to look contrite, but she was unable to maintain the facade, eyes gleaming maniacally. "Perhaps a sterner punishment is called for."

Keeping a firm grip on her chin, Solas trailed the fingers of his other hand down her taut stomach, around her bellybutton, and to the top edge of her lace panties: his feather-light, delicate touch making her hips squirm slightly. "I don't think you have left me any other option." He kissed her lovingly as his fingers continued their dance over her delicate skin, then he released her chin and wrapped his hand instead around her soft throat. Solas bit her lip hard as he tightened his grip, the force of his hand cutting off her gasp. Des's eyes rolled back, lips falling open in a silent moan, and she grabbed his wrist for support as her knees wobbled. He pushed, and her feet moved in a stumbling gait where he directed her, her beautiful face contorting in airless gasps until he shoved her back to fall hard onto the bedroll. She gulped in air, chest heaving and back arching, the sudden rush to her head flooding her body with adrenaline. Before she could recover from the lack of oxygen he was atop her, snatching a discarded belt from the ground and straddling her hips. He caught both her wrists as she gasped for air, wrapping them up and tightening the leather enough to leave marks. She growled, a carnal, animalistic sound, and strained against the bonds.

"I told you to beg," he said, voice low with desire, forcing her hands down over her head. "And you will. If not for absolution, then for mercy."

"Pretty words." Her teeth snapped around his words, and she rolled her hips under him, her body betraying the challenge in her eyes in the way it begged for more.

"So eager." He chastised, sliding his hips down to straddle her thighs, his cock lying hard and heavy on her pubis.

She squirmed. "I'm a glutton for punishment."

"Then you shall be gorged." Solas leaned down and kissed her, a tender press of lips she returned in kind. His tongue entwined with hers and she breathed a moan of pleasure into his mouth. At the same time, Solas shifted his weight, lifting one knee and using his hand to spread her legs, then set his knee back between her thighs. His fingers once again found the gossamer edge of her panties and slid underneath, along her soft flesh to find her clit. Des quivered as the pad of his finger made contact, then moaned as he slowly began drawing circles around the sensitive bud. Her arms strained and her breathing quickened, whines of pleasure leaking from her lips and she kissed him harder, sucking at his tongue with voracious need. Solas resisted the urge to speed the movement of his fingers, maintaining the languid pace which let her rise like swelling waves but never crash against the rocks.

Des mewled, biting at his lips. She tried to pull her knees together, to cut off his access and stop the stimulation, as he knew she would, but his knee planted between her thighs thwarted her attempt. She pushed hard against his hands, head tipping back, high-pitched gasping whines broken by desperate swallows of air as she hyperventilated. Solas kissed down her neck, nipping the skin where it met her chest. He chuckled, lips buzzing against her, and she twitched under him, yelping.

"Solas," she gasped his name, hips squirming for release. "Please." She yelped again, back arching.

"Please what?" He whispered against her neck, purple bruises blossoming in a trail behind his lips.

" _Please_." She hissed.

"Please, _what_ , _Vhenan_." He bit her earlobe.

"Mercy!" She cried, eyes rolling back in her head.

"You wish the mercy of my cock to free you from your torment?" A wicked smile curled his lips.

"Maker, yes! I beg you!" Her back arched again, shoulders locking back to try and gain leverage against his grip on her wrists.

Solas chuckled darkly. "Was it the Maker who released Andraste? Or was it Hessarian with his blade?"

"I'm not Andraste." She managed between mewls.

"Well, of course not. Andraste wasn't a whore." He smirked.

Des opened her mouth, lips trying to form a coherent response, but any words she had intended were stolen in a keening wail, her body convulsing under his touch.

"Beg _me_ for your mercy, for the Maker cannot grant you it."

"Solas, Love, I beg you!" She caught him with her brilliant eyes, the only thing she could still use. "Fuck me, break me, grant me whatever mercy you see fit, but _please_ just do it." She gasped through the words, throat catching on the vowels and making them come out like sobs.

Solas at last stilled his hand and lifted his fingers, drenched in her desire, to his lips. As he curled his tongue around the taste of her, she groaned and her eyes rolled back again. He released her wrists, noting with pleasure that she made no move to lift them, and dismounted her thigh, pulling one of her knees over his shoulder to leave her spread wide for him. He took his cock in one hand, his own touch making him shiver anticipatorily, and with the other, pulled her now soaked, pure white panties to the side to expose her fully. "I grant you clemency," he breathed, teasing around her entrance with the head of his cock. 

She whined, hips arching up into his touch. "Solas," she moaned, the sound religious in its sincerity.

Then, like Hessarian, Solas thrust his blade into her. 

Des moaned deeply, throwing her wrists around Solas's neck, pulling him in to drown the sound out against his lips. Solas was likewise swept up in the release of the reins: slamming their hips together, all control and carefully metered movements thrown to the wind as he drowned in the feel of her body and the crescendo of her cries.

Des's leg wrapped firmly around his back and her nails dug into the back of his neck, Solas gave a final push, his back arching and fingers digging into the bedroll as he buried himself deep within her and found his release. Des moaned as he spilled himself inside of her, back convulsing and hips bowing into him as if in an effort to pull him more tightly inside of her. Her eyes rolled to their whites and she went limp beneath him, still but for her heaving chest. A moment later Solas loosed her knee from his shoulder and collapsed into her chest, head resting comfortably upon her breasts. Des's breathing settled and, for a moment, Solas thought she had fallen asleep, then her fingers caressed gently over his scalp, petting him softly. "Am I forgiven?" There was a smile in her voice, but not the poisonous, prideful one she most often wore. 

Solas tipped his head to look up at her peaceful, satisfied expression, then laid a kiss against her chest. "You never required any forgiveness, _Vhenan_. Not really. You are unapologetically you, and while I may fume and gnash my teeth at your outbursts, I would have you no other way."

Her eyes seemed about to overflow for a moment, backlit, in an unexpected turn, with compassion rather than fury. Then she caught his chin between her hands and pulled him up to her, kissing him with chaste tenderness. She pulled his arms around her and laid her head against his chest, a sweet sigh escaping her lips. "I live in a mountain fortress and control the greatest private army in the world." Her eyes drifted closed. "But nowhere feels safer than wrapped in your arms. I never want to wake without them around me."

Solas inhaled sharply, her words like a bolt to his ribs because, for a moment, he wanted to tell her that she never would. 

But that wasn't true, was it? It would be a lie to make her such a promise. 

He swallowed hard, running his palm over her golden locks. "I will keep you safe, for as long as I am able." 

Not a lie, not exactly.

Solas felt her relax in his arms as he stroked her hair, a smile still curling her shapely lips even in sleep. He watched her slowly breathe in and out, chest brushing against him with each inhale, and silently wrestled with the queer feeling which had somehow become lodged in the center of his chest.

_What had he done?_


End file.
